


Grounded Until Further Notice

by WhiteLadyoftheRing



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 07:33:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17700257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteLadyoftheRing/pseuds/WhiteLadyoftheRing
Summary: Peggy is going to fire Jack Thompson.





	Grounded Until Further Notice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [irisdouglasiana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/irisdouglasiana/gifts).



> Historical inaccuracies abound (probably). Hopefully any mistakes fly under the radar!

**_Grounded Until Further Notice_ **

_February 13, 1948_

“I’m just sorry we’re missing Valentine’s Day,” Daniel says, his voice tinny over the transcontinental connection. “Again.”

Peggy sighs. “So am I, my darling.” And she is. The most difficult obstacle she’s had to endure in the course of constructing a clandestine intelligence organization hasn’t been the long hours or the insufferable politicians, it’s been the weeks and weeks she’s spent apart from her husband. They’d agreed this was for the best; Daniel riding out the end of the SSR while she moved east (taking some of the best agents along with her) to secure funding and set up a headquarters for SHIELD. It was logical.

Of course, that didn’t mean it was easy.

_Ahem._

She glances up to see that Jack is standing in the doorway to her office, staring pointedly at his wristwatch. Peggy casts around her desk – a veritable mountain range of files and loose papers – until she comes up with her favorite lipstick and places it hastily in her pocketbook. “But we just seem to have the worst luck when it comes to these things. Next year—”

Daniel laughs. She can feel the warmth of his smile, even from so many miles away. “Peg, don’t go making promises you don’t intend to keep.”

She knows he’s teasing, but it’s always more fun to play along. “It’s not that I don’t _intend_ to keep them, Daniel. It’s that—”

Jack, apparently out of patience, leans across her desk and cuts in, his voice booming loud enough for the receiver to pick him up. “All right, Sousa, enough with the lovey-dovey talk. Marge is already late for a meeting, so wrap it up.”

Peggy scowls at him, but a glance at the time tells her he’s right. “I’m sorry, Daniel, but I really must go. I’ll call you tomorrow after my meeting in Washington, all right?”

Daniel sighs. “Okay. It’s a date.”

“Love you.”

“I love you too, Peggy.”

Peggy hangs up the handset and is instantly on her feet and shrugging into her coat. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she says. “But thank you for interrupting us. I didn’t think he was ever going to hang up.”

Jack hands over her pocketbook, and retrieves her luggage from the closet. “What I don’t understand is why you have to break his heart like this. You couldn’t just _tell_ him that you managed to plan a weekend trip back west for Valentine’s Day? Is marriage really that boring?”

“You, sir, don’t have a romantic bone in your body.”

“Okay, then. Since I have no sense for romance, drive yourself to the airport.”

“I’m your boss,” she reminds him.

“Right this way, Director, ma’am.”

\--                          

_February 14, 1948_

Peggy is going to fire Jack Thompson.

(No, she isn’t. The wanker had made himself irreplaceable.)

No, she can’t fire him, but she could steal Rose from Daniel. Rose is a perfectly competent assistant and employee. For instance, Rose would have booked her a flight directly from Newark to Los Angeles, or at the very least arranged for a stopover somewhere warm. Perhaps somewhere in Texas.

Jack, on the other hand, booked her to Los Angeles via Chicago, which is all well and good, so long as a blizzard isn’t blowing off the coast of Lake Michigan.

Which, at present, is the case.

It’s just past one in the morning, and all flights are grounded until further notice, and – according to the exhausted man at the ticket desk – her best option was to get a cab, find a hotel, and try again in the morning.

Given the circumstances, it isn’t surprising that there’s a good long queue to get a taxi – not only is an entire airport full of passengers suddenly in need of one, but the streets are already covered in a thick crust of snow – but it certainly isn’t making Peggy’s night that much better. “Well, this is bloody miserable,” she grumbles. “At this rate, it’ll be ten in the morning by the time we all get to bed.”

“Could be faster if everyone paired up and shared,” says a familiar voice. “What do you say? Want to split a cab?”

Peggy turns.

“Daniel?” she gapes. And sure enough it’s him; he’s beaming at her, his hair unkempt from travel and a small suitcase settled at his feet. “But – you’re supposed to be in California.”

He laughs, the skin around his eyes crinkling in the way that always makes her heart swell. “I was going to surprise you, but then my flight got grounded.”

She rushes forward to wrap her arm around his neck and hold him close, her whole body shaking with laughter. “ _I_ was going to surprise _you_.”

“Too late,” he says, his face pressed into the side of her neck. She hears his crutch clatter to the ground as his arms move to loop tightly around her waist. “I beat you to it.”

“You are insufferable,” she declares, her arms still locked around him.

“You’re the one who almost made that poor man at the ticket counter cry.”

Peggy pulls back, scandalized. “I most certainly did not! I would never—wait, you were watching?”

In response, Daniel takes her face between his palms and kisses her.

(She’ll most certainly get back at him for that comment. Later.)


End file.
